


Don't Mess With The Bull

by BoringMacaroni



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bull Boy, Cows, Eproctophilia, Fart Fetish, Farting, Flatulence, Gassy Guy, Lactose Intolerance, Male Farting, Minotaur - Freeform, Other, farting fetish, upset stomach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoringMacaroni/pseuds/BoringMacaroni
Summary: The minotaur!AU proved to be very popular, and I've got a real soft spot for this gassy bull boy o' mine, so here's a sequel. Well... technically it's a prequel, set earlier in the timeline when Gabe's a late teenager.P.S, if you've been sending me any messages on here, I haven't been ignoring you. For some reason I can't access my inbox on this website. If you have anything you want to say, leave it as a comment, or send me a note on deviantART (I'm BoringMacaroni on there too.)Thanks for all the support, guys! Enjoy!





	Don't Mess With The Bull

**Author's Note:**

> The minotaur!AU proved to be very popular, and I've got a real soft spot for this gassy bull boy o' mine, so here's a sequel. Well... technically it's a prequel, set earlier in the timeline when Gabe's a late teenager. 
> 
> P.S, if you've been sending me any messages on here, I haven't been ignoring you. For some reason I can't access my inbox on this website. If you have anything you want to say, leave it as a comment, or send me a note on deviantART (I'm BoringMacaroni on there too.)
> 
> Thanks for all the support, guys! Enjoy!

"Oh, thank the Gods!"

Gabriel's mother looked as though she could cry from the relief she had experienced upon opening the front door of the cottage and seeing the silver-haired gnome standing before her. Zephyr smiled cordially, if a little wearily at her lively demeanour. It was well past midnight and he had been enjoying a post-eighteen-hour-shift slumber when he received the call.

"Lovely evening, isn't it? I haven't ever seen such a starry sky-"

The cow had no time for niceties. A hand reached out and forcefully pulled the gnome inside by his shirt collar.

"Zephyr, you will not  _believe_  what he's done. Please, you must come in. I need all the help I can get."

Before he had a chance to speak, or even regain his balance, she had whisked the two of them into the main hallway of the cottage. It was their temporary housing while they were attending the show and one of the most elegantly furnished minotaur pens Zephyr had ever seen.

"Is everything alright?" He queried. By the defeated tone of her voice and the hurried pace of her walk, he couldn't help but assume that something awful had occurred.

"No, far from it," the cow morosely replied. "He's went and made himself sick again."

Panic fluttered in the gnome's chest. Gabe was just as much his responsibility as he was his mother's.

"How bad is it? Do you know what caused it? Did he eat some of those orange peonies outside? I thought they might be poisonous. Shit, I knew I should've double-checked...!"

But Gabriel's mother didn't appear to hear him. She was lost in her own world.

"He's a stress-eater, you know. He gets it from me. My mother was the same." After a moment, her face contorted into a mixture of disappointment and frustration and she stomped her hoof with an enraged huff.

"What a foolish boy he is! He should know by now that these careless actions have consequences that affect us  _all._  He's got a long journey home today, he can't be like this."

Zephyr was desperate to know what 'this' meant. "Lila, what exactly happened?"

"We were lounging around for about an hour after the awards ceremony," she explained, guiding them down a left turn. "He came in first place... oh, I'm  _so_  proud of him you know, he's doing so well these days. The King's so happy with how he's turning out." The irritation had been won over by motherly adoration. Zephyr cleared his throat to steer her back on track.

"We decided we'd graze in the gardens for a while, while the sun was setting. But then Tatiana came around—such a nice girl, I do like her a lot. I think she'll make a fine Queen some day."

"Mhm. So..?"

"Ah, yes, so Tatiana arrived and asked if Gabe would like to come and meet some of her friends. Children of the other royals, you know. Nice kids. Well, she wanted to show off the prize-winning bull, so of course I encouraged him to go! Why wouldn't she want to boast? Off they went, and, well... I just stayed here. Knitting, catching up on the newest issue of _Cowsmoopolitan._  Just waiting for him to come back. I told him not to be too late."

The cow stopped a few feet in front of a stall door, embellished with gold-leafed detailing and a thick bronze handle. She lowered her voice, as not to be overheard.

"I think... well, I don't know for  _sure_ , you see, he wouldn't tell me..."

Downy, caramel-furred ears drooped.

"I think something happened. He must've gotten upset over something. Maybe someone said something to him, I don't know. But he came home and he was pacing, and I went off to make him some tea. When I came back he was gone."

The fluttering had amounted into a punch that made Zephyr's heart hammer in his chest. He was already halfway up the hallway, heading back toward the entrance.

"We'll organise a search party at once! Don't worry, Lila, we'll find-"

_**bbbbbrrrrRRPPPRRRRBBBRRRPPFFRT!** _

The decorated door quaked on its hinges as a humongous burst of flatulence rumbled through the hallway. Lila's ears pricked up at the explosive sound, then she tutted, chest heaving under the weight of a disappointed sigh.

"He came back," the cow continued, "and I've never seen a more sorry sight."

An ill stench was leaking out from Gabriel's room.

"Lila..." Zephyr began, squinting inquiringly as he returned to his former position at her side. "What...?"

The bull's mother raised a hand.  _Don't shoot the messenger,_ it said.

"I don't know how he got it, but-"

The gnome was already groaning. "Don't tell me."

"Cheese, Zephyr. Satyr cheese! A whole two wheels, at least! Ate the  **entire**  thing!"

"Oh,  _Gods,_ " the gnome shielded his face behind his hands.

"Well, you can imagine what he was like, can't you? He was lying in the garden when I found him. I managed to get him inside. I had some tea ready to try and calm his stomachs, but I was too late. He ended up relieving himself all over the floor. What a mess! At least  _that_  part's over with. But now he's... well, you know how he gets when he's sick." She cleared her throat, a little awkward when talking about her son's condition.

Lila looked down at the flooring below them, her hoof pawing cautiously at the expensive wood.

"I hope it doesn't leave a stain..."

"You should've called me to help."

"Nonsense, I know how to clean that up. That's all I've ever spent my motherhood doing! Cleaning up his crap."

The brief wave of disgruntlement promptly passed. The cow sighed tiredly as she massaged her brow.

"I  _know_  it's not his fault, Zephyr. And I know, being the way he is... it can't be easy. The vet always said he had an imbalance of digestive flora, whatever that means. She said it was an issue, but I didn't believe her. I suppose I didn't want to hear it. He was so well-bred."

Her tail swayed pensively behind her. 

"Personally, I think it's healthy, to be a little... frequent with your emissions. I think it shows good digestion. Doesn't it?"

"Of course," Zephyr agreed, eyeing the bull's door. He wanted to see how badly a state Gabe was in—not that he didn't appreciate the explanation.

"But it really does cause some problems. I know the other boys tease him for it," the bovine woman frowned. "I just wish he wouldn't let it get to him."

"How did he get the cheese?"

"I think he might've stolen it from one of the stalls. Gods know how none of the guards noticed, it's hard to miss him."

"Or someone gave it to him."

The cow blinked in surprise. "Who?"

"Well," Zephyr wasn't about to bad mouth his employers, but he had made a few notable observations. "Princess Tatiana has been known to sneak him his treats."

"Oh, she wouldn't give him  _cheese!_  She knows what happens when he has dairy. Remember last summer's jubilee? When he ate that big buttercream cake?"

Zephyr nodded gravely. Everyone seemed to have a _'remember when?'_  story when it came to Gabriel. Of course Zephyr remembered! He was the one wiping the bull's arse.

"I'd imagine you're wanting him out of here ASAP," he said.

"Only because he might have to relieve himself again. He'll clog the toilet, and I'm not prepared to have him foul this lovely pen. We'll never get invited back."

"I understand," the gnome stepped forward. "I'll take it from here, thank you."

"No, I'll stay. You're going to need an extra hand."

Zephyr frowned disbelievingly. He knew that Lila was aware of how he was far stronger than he looked; he had gotten Gabe onto his feet many times without any additional help, and was able to control even the most monstrous of raging taurs.

This wasn't going to be pretty.

After taking his final breath of unpolluted air, the gnome turned the handle of the door and diffidently stepped into the grand room. Warm, stinking air that had been pent up inside blasted him in the face, tickling the close-cropped hair on his head. The scene wasn't too out of the ordinary. A chair in the corner, hay strewn all across the floor. A trough for water. A large clawfoot bathtub and basin. And a big, plush bed, with a big, fat minotaur curled up in a blanket looking like a beached whale, his ample behind sticking out of the swaddled cloth. He might've been dumb enough to eat two entire cheese wheels, but he wasn't dumb enough to dutch oven himself.

The room smelled of stale farts, cow fur and teenage angst.

Zephyr stood in the doorway and gauged the size of his task. It appeared to still be one-hundred-and-fifty pounds, as according to Gabe's most recent weigh-in, but his belly was so distended and enlarged that he looked as though he could be pushing two-hundred.

"Well, this should be fun," he muttered flatly.

Hearing this, Gabe stirred underneath his blanket. His long tail flicked in mild exasperation. He had only just managed to fall asleep after enduring the apoplectic runs for two hours. The shit had been freed from the depths of his raging bellyache, but he still had a mountain of gas to conquer. His stomach emitted a series of watery gurgles and the tail-flicking became a thrashing as his bowels ached. He groaned deeply. Blue eyes warily watched as Zephyr toured around the bed until he was face-to-face with the teenage taur.

"Go away," he lowed at his caretaker. "I'm trying to sleep here."

"Oh, we are. We're going to go  _very_  far away." Zephyr stared him down. "Get up, I'm taking you out of here."

The bull huffed, blowing hot air onto the gnome's face.

"I'm not moving."

"Is that by choice, or because you've completely beached yourself, you big lump of lard?"

Gabriel snorted, eyes narrowing fiercely.  _"Piss off!"_

"Gabriel!" Lila scolded from the doorway. "You better get up right now. You're sleeping somewhere else tonight. I'm not having you here like this."

Gabriel's stomachs whined. His tail trembled as he turned his head to give his mother his best puppy dog eyes.

"Mom, it  _hurts_..."

"Don't play that card on me. You did this to yourself, you daft boy."

Zephyr grabbed Gabe by his still-developing horns and looked him straight in the eye.

"You'll embarrass yourself even more tonight if you stay here and keep the whole herd awake with that fat arse of yours," he admonished. "So get shifting.  _Pronto._ "

Gabriel opened his mouth wide and belched defiantly in his face.

"Fine," Zephyr gritted his teeth. The smell of pungent cheese was strong on his breath, and the gnome didn't want to know how it would smell coming out the other end.

"If you don't move, we'll move you. Lila?"

The cow proceeded into the room, snorting her disapproval at her son. The two of them positioned themselves behind Gabe, one set of hands on each of his plump, bulbous buttocks.

"Alright, on my count..." Zephyr readied them. "1, 2... 3!"

He pushed heartily, feeling his hands plunge into the taur's soft fat. Lila strained as she attempted to move her hefty spawn. She had at least fifty pounds on him, but Gabe's muscular density was far heavier and though he was still a year or so away from completing puberty, he was frightfully powerful for his age. Luckily he had inherited his father's sedated temperament. The bovine planted her hooves into the ground and pushed with all her might, but she couldn't feel him giving underneath her.

"Come on," Zephyr's face was bright red and every bone in his body felt liable to break. Sweat already lined his forehead. "We'll get 'im!  _PUSH!_ "

The bull wasn't doing much to assist. He didn't  _want_  to move. The ungodly amount of pressure in his bloated stomachs made him feel as though he was pregnant with quadruplets, and even trying to turn himself on his side had been excruciating. His haybed was nice and warm, and his blanket was fluffy, and at least in here he could mope in peace without his mother trying to pry details out of him. Like he wanted to talk about the devastating humiliation he had endured back there! He wouldn't be able to show his face around the Princess for a whole week.

Gods, why couldn't they just leave him  _alone?_ Although, he quite enjoyed the free butt massage he was currently receiving...

"As soon as we get you back home..oh,  _spirits._..." Zephyr had to rest for a moment to catch his breath, draping his weakened body across Gabe's back. "You're... oooh... you're going on a diet," he grumbled. He caught his second wind a moment later and thrust his hands into the bull's thick hind.

"Hhhhhhrrr! C'mon!  _Move, for pixie's sake!_ "

Gabriel suppressed a snort at his caretaker's fruitless endeavour.

Then he felt the bubble in his gut.

His ears pricked up at once, eyes widening in panic as he felt his stomachs begin to churn. Before he could form a warning, gas was violently rushing south. Lila caught sight of her son's tail lifting and gasped loudly.

"Watch it, Zephyr! He's letting loose!"

The gnome yelled and dove to the side as the teenager released a titanic volume of warm, thundering flatulence right at them. It was unlike any fart Zephyr had witnessed him ripping before. This sounded and felt  _huge_ and he had to hold onto the bed as the entire room seemed to shake under the force of Gabe's nightmarish wind. The noise wasn't the only change of pace. Mushroom-cloud plumes of nasty brown fumes ploughed from Gabe's anus and blanketed them in a rotten-egg-scented fog. Lila mooed in disgust and covered her nose with her hands. Zephyr actually found himself whacking a fist into his chest, desperate to restart his failing lungs.

"Ahhhhhh...!"

Gabe's ears lowered in pleasure as he pushed out a big, contended sigh. Much better! With every vulgar fart he was chipping away at the mass of gas inside of him. His once taut anal muscles eased as he broke wind a few more times, the smaller, riper bursts adding to the already devastating stench.

"Gods, do you think he needs to see a vet?" Zephyr questioned, coughing harshly. Lila shook her head as she fanned the air.

"No, this is normal... for  _him._  Don't you remember when he was a calf?"

Zephyr wiped at his eyes. "I remember how stressful it was to feed him, yes. He had to have his milk, but milk-"

"It was a disaster," Lila shook her head, incredulous of the memories, even though she knew them to be true. Eighteen years later and she could still recall in perfect clarity how difficult those early days had been.

"Five minutes, Zephyr. That was all the time we had before his stomachs went on a frenzy. He used to clear out the whole barn. And he was only a  _baby!_  Nobody had ever seen anything like it."

The gnome nodded his understanding. It was all coming back to him now. He could remember the heart-stopping race to get a diaper on the bull's ass before he explosively shat himself. Gods, those first couple of years had been so unlike what his training had prepared him for...

As one would expect, Zephyr had been beyond exhilarated to start his first ever professional caretaking position. The excitement was ramped up considerably by his recruitment by the richest of all the land's rulers. No one ever started out with the royals—it was something you had to work toward, sometimes for hundreds of years (luckily, gnomes had one of the longest life expectancies.) Everyone knew that Tatiana's parents owned some of the highest ranking award-winners and bred many of the finest show-lines. They were most famous for their minotaurs, which had made it all the more thrilling to the gnome to be assigned to one of their newly-born calves.

Although, Gabe's flatulence issue had made him a bit of a laughing-stock among his circle of esteemed colleagues. They been employed to help raise the children of graceful centaurs and wizened fawns. Children that bore no faults, according to their breeders. But Zephyr had ended up having the last laugh all thanks to the gassy baby bull. He had managed to bond with Gabe quicker than any of them, all because of his lactose intolerance.

Whenever the bull was fed his mother's milk (which, during the first couple of years of his life, was almost every hour) Zephyr had discovered that rubbing his belly worked to alleviating the tight, painful cramps that infested the taur's delicate digestive system. Doing this so frequently, he swiftly gained the little calf's trust. He had worked with minotaurs calves who wouldn't let him pet them until they were at least five years old, when they had finally learned that non-taurs wouldn't bring them any harm. But by the time he was three years old Zephyr could already perform a full health check on Gabe without any trouble or resistance. Gabe had learned to associate Zephyr with being the person who took the pain away. It gave way to what was sure to be a lifelong bond.

Sure, it meant enduring the constant smell of rancid minotaur flatulence. But in the end, no caretaker was quite as close to their animal as Zephyr was to Gabriel. The colleagues who had once mocked him had to work solely on their animal's terms, constantly hassled with stuffy, bucking, aggressive livestock who preferred to dictate the situation rather than listen to reason. Zephyr had Gabriel completely trained and he wasn't even an adult yet. Even now he could attach a saddle and ride on the taur's shoulders if he wanted to.

Of course, some of the credit had to go to Gabe himself: he was a gentle giant compared to most males of his species. A giant, smelly giant.

Gabe's stomachs gurgled wrathfully, eliciting a woeful moo from the teenaged taur. Lila had momentarily forgotten her son was able to hear their discussion. Once the smell had passed, she reached over to tenderly stroke him on his backside.

"It's not really fair for you, is it? A lactose intolerant cow. There's something  _almost_  funny about that, if you didn't make everyone want to vomit."

"Gee, thanks ma," Gabe spat sharply.

Both adults winced as the bull passed a stream of spluttering gas, making the blanket flap like a flag in the wind. Gabe ducked his head.

"...sorry..."

"Are you going to help us now?" Zephyr prodded the boy's side after waving the stench away. "We can't move you if you don't give us a hand."

"But it hurts when I moooove," Gabe moaned, a distressed moo mixing into his smooth voice. Being asked to get out of a bed in this state was basically like being asked to run a marathon. He was carrying more weight than he knew what to do with. "And I'm  _so_  tired..."

"Fine." Zephyr exited back into the hallway, calling distantly to the cows. "I'll just go and arrange your first branding tattoo...!"

 **"WAIT!"**  Gabe exclaimed so vigorously he accidentally let out a loud poot. "I'm up! Shit, did he hear me?!  _HEY, I said_   _I'm up!_ "

* * *

The night air was chilly, but windless, which saddened Zephyr. He had been rooting for a strong breeze to blow some away some of the stench of manure that clung to the minotaur's furry ass and made it unbearable to even be upwind of him.

"You know I don't need this dumb thing," Gabe carped as the gnome applied a harness around his head and shoulders. "I ain't gonna run off, especially when I'm like  _this_. I mean, unless I gotta go poop again..."

He poked his bubbling, balloon-shaped belly. To be fair, that was a very real possibility.

" _I_  know you don't need it, but try telling the guards that," the gnome replied. He pulled one end of a rope through Gabe's golden nose-ring and tied it tightly.

"We can't have a loose minotaur running around, even for a small journey. You might trample someone."

The taur was fitted. Zephyr clasped both hands around the other end of the rope and tugged. The bull snorted in surprise as he was forcefully jolted from his spot and dragged forward.

"Yeah, it'll be you if you ain't careful!" He threatened. His tail thrashed at his rear, accidentally spreading the potent aroma of cow shit that coated his behind further into the atmosphere. "Stop it! You know I only got my ring this year."

He shook the hair out of his face to reveal his bright eyes, tussling his floppy blonde locks and stomping at the ground in a rare show of aggression. Gabe bowed his head and displayed the short, barely visible curves he called horns menacingly at the gnome. It didn't faze Zephyr anymore than the harpy chicks throwing a tantrum did.

"Oh lay off it, you big oaf. Come along," Zephyr patted his thigh and whistled. Hearing his cue, and being the whinging, yet obedient bull he was deep down inside, Gabe threw in the towel and started to slowly trot behind him.

The pale moonlight made the showgrounds feel...  _eerie._  It was nothing like it had been that afternoon; the energy had been frenetic during the day with excited crowds filling almost every spot of the vast fields. The guest count had went  _way_  over the estimated amount. The place was so packed that the announcer could barely be heard over the sea of voices. A funeral would've had a livelier spirit than it did right now.

Everything seemed to be wrapped in dense, menacing shadows, and Zephyr didn't like that he couldn't make out more than a couple of feet in front of him. He wished the guards could set up a few controlled fires to lessen the effect. It was so dark he wasn't even sure he could  _see_  the guards patrolling the gates.

But one had to admit that it painted the minotaur in a very flattering light. It shimmered against the white patches in his luscious fur, turning them a silky silver, and highlighted the chocolate brown tones in his hair. His eyes were a brilliant ocean blue against the inky surroundings, blinking thoughtfully as Zephyr led him through the twists and turns. Like so many others had that day during the show, Zephyr found himself looking over his shoulder and admiring the handsome, brawny taur. His strapping appearance combined with an unusually placid personality meant that he really  _was_  something special, and he had no trouble in understanding why the King treasured him so dearly.

Of course, the King never had to deal with Gabe when he was feeling unwell.

Gabe's ass jiggled as he walked. Each time one of his fat cheeks raised, wet farts slipped out from between the pair of blubbery buttocks. Disgusting flatulence streamed out of him at a steady speed, and by the time they had reached the shed he had left a thick trail of that horrid brown gas in his wake.

The taur clutched his groaning stomach. Zephyr could hear his chambers becoming more agitated, filling the air with sloppy burbling noises. They wouldn't have long before he experienced a major gas-attack, which is why he was eager to move the boy to a safer, better ventilated place.

Now that he was on two legs, the gnome could see the full extent of the damage. Gabe's stomach had extended an inch or so out and he had a flabby overhang. The bull couldn't even see his own hooves underneath him. They hadn't bothered with his loincloth—Zephyr doubted it would fit him now that he was like this.

Out of all dairy products, cheese seemed to hit the taur the worst. Whatever had upset him must've really been bad for him to do something so thoughtless. Zephyr knew that Gabe was gluttonous, and now and then he could be a bit empty-headed, but he was smarter than to put himself through all this pain, just for a few mollifying moments of creamy, cheesy goodness.

"Okay, in here," Zephyr pushed open the door of an old, cobwebbed shed and tugged one final time to lead Gabe in. As he passed through before him, he wondered if the minotaur would even fit through the narrow passageway.

"s'a little small, Z," Gabriel commented doubtfully as he attempted to follow. "You might have to pull me some more."

Zephyr yanked helpfully on the rope. Gabe tried to suck in his inflated middle as he squeezed himself into the room. He bunched his wide shoulders and wriggled his backside, dislodging a couple of blustery toots as he shoved and strained. With a pop and a poot, he eventually slipped through the tight entrance.

The taur clomped his way into the centre of the shed and shook the debris from his fur.

"This is the best place you could find?" He said, observing the room. It was rather unimpressive, especially when compared to the pen he had been sleeping in the past few days.

"It's only for one night. And think of it this way—you can stink this place up as much as you like! It's just a storage facility. Nothing special."

"Trust me," Gabe belched and held his suffering gut, his face beginning to darken from the increasing pain. "Don't matter where you took me, it was gonna get stunk up.  _Ohhh_..."

The bull couldn't hold it any longer—not that he had been holding it much before. He lifted his heavy tail and grunted, unleashing a steamy load of rumbling flatulence. Hay whirled wildly downwind of him. The brown fumes completely flooded the tiny shed within seconds.

"Phew!" He sighed, relieved as he held each side of his gargantuan belly. Flies buzzed around his smelly, shit-splattered ass. It pained Zephyr to see him so filthy, but he wouldn't have dared to give him a bath when he was suffering from these kind of cramps. He had experienced a face full of Gabe gas one too many times in his life  _thank you very much._

The gnome lifted his shirt over his nose and released the bull of his restraints. He then eyed the room for a pitchfork.

"Go on, make yourself comfortable," Zephyr told him, "I'll get to work."

"I can't make myself comfortable," Gabe complained. He leaned against one of the four brick walls, rubbing soothingly into his immense gut. He had hoped his latest release might've placated his bowels but the gurgling had only gotten worse. "Not when I'm like this."

"Well, here's some sage advice—maybe you  _shouldn't_  have eaten all that cheese."

"You don't understand," the bull countered huffily.

Ah hah! Zephyr spotted a pitchfork hidden among a heap of hay. He bent down and started entangling the soft strands in the metal forks, before laying it to rest in a cleared patch toward the back of the shed.

"So what happened?" he asked as casually as he could. He might be able to get more out of the taur than his mother had.

The bull burped and flicked an ear, looking disinterestedly through the exit and out into the moonlit grounds. "Nothin'."

Zephyr snorted. "This-" He walked over and prodded the taur's big churning belly. "Is not  _nothing_ , kid. Come on, you can tell me, can't you? Did something happen at the show?"

"No, it's just... I guess it's kinda silly."

The taur's stomachs gurgled sharply, and he whined in pain as he was forced to once again succumb to his disturbed digestive system. He squatted to empty out a barrel of rippling farts, the foul, airy winds making his tail shake, and upsetting some of the progress Zephyr had been making on his bed. After the ten second blast was over, Gabriel moaned deeply with relief.

"Sorry about that," he apologised, finally noticing the ranking smell that was engulfing the small space. He waved a hand behind him. It didn't help much.

"Your mother told me that Tatiana invited you to meet some of her friends," the gnome continued, swiftly fixing the damage that had been made. "But when you came back, you were troubled. As though someone had upset you. Did someone upset you?"

"Of course not!" The bull laughed. Upset him? He wasn't a calf anymore. He didn't concern himself with the opinion of others.

...except,  _he did._

He scratched the back of his neck, coughing awkwardly.

"N-No... I upset myself, really."

Zephyr jammed the pitchfork into the now-finished bed and leaned his weight against it. His hand slipped into his pocket to take out his rag, and he mopped at his brow, looking expectantly at the teenager.

"Well?"

Gabe looked at the ground as his swollen belly continued to roil and rumble.

"...Tatiana was looking real forward to showing me off to everybody," he began hesitantly.

"Uh huh? And?"

"And I was feeling pretty good about myself. I had basically won the _entire_  competition, so I was already ridin' that high, and now the Princess was gonna flaunt me in front of her friends. All the future Queens and Kings... apparently they had  _asked_  to see me, so that was a pleasant surprise. Tatiana told me that they don't really care much for minotaurs. She said they think we're all boring. All we do is stand around, eat grass and shit. You can't really ride us, and we ain't real musical like the fawns..."

Gabriel's face scrunched in agony as he lifted his leg and began to let out a low, grumbling ripper. He soon found himself huffing as it began to ramp up into a deafening blast that forced him to push and strain in order to get it out of him. The brassy eruption was so powerful it made his asscheeks vibrate, and so swift it fluttered the longer strands of fur on his derriere. It eventually ended... after a whole eighteen seconds of noise.

"I beg to differ," Zephyr muttered from behind the safety of his rag. "You were saying?"

"Uh... oh, yeah. So I knew this was a pretty big deal for her, she wanted to prove 'em wrong, you know?"

Zephyr said nothing, only tilting his head to the side and softening his gaze.

"But the royals—they  _all_  have prize-winning stock," Gabe continued, his tail swatting at the flies eagerly nipping his aromatic ass. "One of them has a centaur who won the Grand National Race, five times— _in a row!_  I was going up against some impressive pets. I wanted to make Tatiana look good. I was really trying my best to look.. I dunno... I wanted to look  _cool._ "

Zephyr nodded. Gabe let out a squeaky fart and rubbed the side of his face, eyes closing over tiredly.

"But..."

He stopped, exhaling and mooing lowly. Mourning the loss of what could've been a great end to the day.

"...she caught me right when I had been grazing, and my stomachs... well they hadn't exactly settled yet..."

"Oh dear," Zephyr murmured, catching on, "you didn't...?"

"Yeah, I farted. Of course I farted, it's all I ever do!" Gabe barked. His tail swished angrily behind him, accidentally knocking a few flies into the wall. But the fury dissipated far sooner than it would've for any other bull his age. Otherwise, Zephyr would've made sure to get out of the charging path.

Instead, Gabe's tufted appendage had tucked firmly between his legs.

"But in front of  _them_ , and poor Tatiana..." The bull's ears lowered shyly. His stomachs warbled, a fittingly miserable sound. "I must've embarrassed her so much."

Zephyr took a few steps closer to the taur, hands resting in his pockets.

"So that's why you were upset? You thought you had embarrassed her?"

"I know I embarrassed her," Gabe argued. "They all laughed... and I heard one of the princes call me a stupid slab of beef."

The taur pouted, nuzzling his head into the wall so he could hide his flushed face. Zephyr returned the pitchfork to its proper place.

"Did Tatiana laugh at you?"

Gabe's ears flicked up a little. Zephyr's voice was loud in the dull room, and nobody had said anything for a few minutes. He shook his head.

"Did Tatiana call you a stupid slab of beef?"

"Nope."

Zephyr didn't turn around as he questioned him. "Do you think Tatiana thinks you're dumb?"

Gabriel shrugged pitifully. "How am I supposed to know? Probably."

"She most certainly does  _not._ " Zephyr dusted the dirt from his hands. "Good. I think we've solved your problem."

Gabriel snorted distrustfully.

" _How?_  All we've done is talk."

"Which is all we needed to do. You're caring about the opinions of the wrong people," Zephyr concluded. "And it's quite easy to stop. Haven't you ever heard the expression,  _'a lion doesn't lose sleep over the opinion of sheep?'_ "

"Uhh... but I'm a cow, Z."

Zephyr resisted the urge to face-palm. "It doesn't matter. You could be a hippogriff for all it matters! Point is, the only opinion you should be paying any sort of attention to is that of your owner, the Princess. The Princess who adores you so much she wanted to show off you off to all her friends. I don't see her doing that with her centaurs or her fawns. Don't you think that says something?"

Gabe's tail swayed in silent thought as he processed the advice.

"Luckily for you, she's completely enamoured with you. She's never going to stop adoring you no matter how many times you fart in front of her. If she did, she would've certainly said something by now," Zephyr grinned and tugged on the bull's fluffy ears. "So shut those ears, you silly moo! Don't let those spoilt brats make you feel bad about yourself. They're not worth it, future royals or not."

He ruffled the taur's silky locks of hair. Gabriel allowed himself a shy grin, enough for Zephyr to know that his work in the mentoring department was done. Zephyr smiled back at him.

_Ggggguurrrrgglll..._

"Oh crap," the minotaur let out a harsh wince as gas audibly sloshed around in his bowels. "Jeez, I thought I might've been done."

"After two cheese wheels? Are you kidding?" Zephyr laughed, but Gabe was starting to look seriously panicked.

"C-Can I lay down now? It's gettin' real bad..."

"Let me get you some blankets first," Zephyr efficiently made his way toward the shed exit. "Stay put, okay?"

"Hey, Z?"

Zephyr swung around. "Yes?"

"Do you think I'm dumb?"

The gnome chuckled fondly and gave a brisk shake of his head.

"Of course not. But I do think you make some dumb decisions sometimes."

The bull exploded with such a moist fart that even he had to look over his shoulder to check he hadn't soiled himself. The flies had been flung backwards in the surprise attack, but they recovered and began to weakly buzz around his filthy, reeking rear-end.

Gabe cleared his throat and fanned himself. "You might be onto something there," he admitted.

Zephyr tittered and almost exited the shed this time.

"Hey, Z?"

" _What_ , Gabe?"

"Could you bring me a glass of warm milk, too?"

"..."

"I'm kidding," the bull smirked, tail flicking playfully.

Zephyr pointed a stern finger. "You better be, kid. You better be."

* * *

The gnome shut the shed door behind him, then raced back to push it open again. There was an opened window in there but they needed _all_  the fresh air they could get.

He breathed in the cool atmosphere as he crossed the empty grounds, seeking the nearest barn or pen. It would be a frosty morning—he could tell by the fact that the sky was so clear. Hopefully that meant they had a slight chance of their carriages being delayed. It would give him more time to get Gabe as gas-free as the chronically flatulent bull could be. He had fumigated  _many_  a carriage in his time. It did not make for a pleasant travelling experience. 

The moon had passed over them now, leaving Zephyr without any light source. Gnomes weren't equipped with the fine-tuned vision of harpies and the cave-dwelling trolls, but he could rely on his sense of memory, as sharp as a tack, to remind him of where the nearest pen was. He was sure there was a centaur stable a couple of yards away. They wouldn't mind sparing a few blankets.

It was odd, how still everything was. The day had been exhausting, so he could understand why there weren't any of the useless restless insomniacs plodding around, enjoying the quietude of a nighttime graze. Normally the guards chatted amongst themselves during the night-shift, lest they die of boredom, but he couldn't even make out the occasional chuckle or clank of armour. He was starting to wish he had brought the bull with him. Gabriel was a calm type, but he still knew how to defend himself.

Zephyr stopped. He could vaguely make out the outline of a shed ten or so feet ahead of him. There was a slight possibility that they might have some bedding materials in there, and it would be better to avoid waking up any of the energy-drained competitors before the big journey home. He jogged toward it, gently pushing open the old door so it wouldn't creak—although he would've appreciated something to break up the unsettling silence.

He peered into the darkness, scanning the grounds for anything soft. It didn't have to be a blanket, just  _something_... he didn't want Gabe sleeping on hay and concrete all night. He entered enough to have the door swing back behind him, but stuck a foot out to avoid being plunged into total tenebrosity.

There was a bundle in the corner. An unexpected instinct aroused in Zephyr. Goosebumps prickled his skin and a shiver slithered its way down his spine. For some reason, he didn't like the look of it.

_Come on, man. You're nearly sixty years old! Grow up._

Zephyr stilled his shaking breath and bent down toward the covered mass, a trembling hand reaching out to pull back and reveal its hideous, bulging form...

A bucket. An old scrap of stained metal had made his heart race faster than a six-hundred-pound half-giant stampeding straight toward him. The gnome was overcome with a rush of bubbling giggles, happy to feel safe again.

Zephyr turned around and locked eyes with a scarred man.

"Oh, _shi-!_ "

"Don't scream," the husky voice commanded, then something lunged at him.

Zephyr's breath hitched in his throat. He shivered violently as the figure clamped a big hand over his mouth. The gnome's entire body was frozen with fear, though his heart was leaping madly.

"This can work out very well for you if you do as I say," the man said, crimson eyes narrowing in the dark. "Do you want things to go well?"

Zephyr heard the crunch of loose stones underfoot. More figures had crawled out of the darkness, and they were beginning to circle him.

He nodded carefully.

"Smart man."

He was hastily herded back out into the grounds. The group moved quickly and clandestinely, not daring to rely on the twilight to keep them hidden. Zephyr's arms were forced and tied behind his back. As they moved away from the shed, the man released his hand. He breathed in as much air as he could—too much, so he began to pant frenziedly.

"Take us to that blonde Brandisian that won the show today," the same grizzled voice said.

"He's sick," Zephyr's voice wavered, "he caught an illness during the competition. It could be contagious."

"Don't matter. We got vets back home, just as you do. We'll take good care of 'im."

Zephyr felt his blood run cold. What was he to do? Clearly these men had taken down the guards somehow, and even if he yelled he wasn't sure anyone would hear him.

He could do nothing but obey. Maybe once they were inside, an idea would miraculously appear...

"In there?"

Zephyr gave the smallest of nods. He had stopped outside the shed where Gabe was resting.

"You're going to help us move 'im to our carriage. Do you have a tranquilliser?"

"No," Zephyr's cracked with nerves. "It's rare that we need to use those with our show animals."

The man turned and whistled at one of the other cloaked cattle-rustlers.

"Laz, bring the rest of the boys in. This one's going to be live."

 _This one?_ Zephyr's mouth gaped. How many more had they already taken...?

"Please don't do this." He couldn't be sure that his mouth was actually emitting those words, or that his brain had actually realised that what was currently happening wasn't some kind of trick. "Please, he's... he's barely out of his calfhood. He has so much more left to see."

The man grinned maliciously.

"What do you think we're going to do with 'im? Although now that you mention it, we ain't had steak in a  _long_  while."

The men cackled around them. Zephyr felt sweat trickle down his back.

_Please, Gods, help us get out of this._

* * *

Zephyr wasn't the only one who was sweating.

Gabriel's stomachs were struggling to digest the cosmic amounts of dairy he had packed into his system. His face had paled to a sickly shade, and his stomachs were churning forcibly, creating nauseating splashing noises that rang around the shed. The cramps had well and truly set in now. Needle-like pin-pricks teased and taunted his overfilled bowels.

He huffed and heaved, almost bent over as he struggled to keep himself upright under the burden of his pain. The gas bubbles had inflated his intestines and were now fighting to see who could reach his rectum first. But in the process, they had completely plugged him up. No matter how hard he strained he couldn't get any gas out of him.

 _Now_  he had to be like this. Why couldn't he be like this in front of Tatiana?!

Gabe whimpered sadly. Although Zephyr's guidance had certainly helped, he would be grieving over that incident for a while. His hooves shifted their weight from leg to leg—his stomach was so big and heavy, and he _really_  wanted to sit down... but he wouldn't be able to get back up again. He knew it. He was beginning to side with his mother's nagging.   
  
How could he be so stupid? What deluded him into thinking that eating would take the pain away? If he had learned anything from living with his sensitive digestive system for eighteen years, it was that food often  _added_  to his sorrows. There wasn't many things he could consume in excess without turning into... well, this.

He let out an uneasy moo. The gas was swelling inside each of his stomachs, and together they were beginning to crush his lungs. Gabriel's eyes shut over tightly and his face reddened as he desperately tried to usher the build-up towards his exit...

Then the door hurled open, and suddenly a whole horde of men he had never seen before were crowding the tiny shed.

"Kaltag, Morris, you stay out there," one of the men shouted at the group. "Rest of you, come on in."

"W-Who are you?" Gabe demanded, to which he was ignored.

The bull's ears pinned back in fear. Instinct was telling him to stand his ground and not break eye-contact with the men. But instinct was also telling him that he really needed Zephyr there beside him.

Luck would have it, because in he came, being shoved forward by the biggest and hairiest of the strangers. As Zephyr approached him, Gabriel noticed immediately that his hands had been tied together behind his back. The leader didn't mind letting the gnome stand near the bull. He was useless in this state anyway.

He whistled as he took in the impressive sight.

"Look at the size of this fella! What a beast!"

"Z?" Gabe whispered to his caretaker, "w-what's going on?"

The gnome shushed him curtly.

"Gods, we might as well eat 'im. Why get the money to  _buy_  a million steaks when you've got this big guy right here? Am I right lads?"

The others laughed and mumbled their agreements. Gabe took a shuffling step backwards, trying to corner himself. He anxiously blew air out of his nostrils. Despite his impairment, Zephyr stood protectively at his side.

"Right, boys, there's 'ardly any horns on this one," the leader continued. "Don't bother tyin' 'em. Just get his head and neck fastened nice and tight."

The men moved forward, belligerent grins painted on each of their faces. Gabe let out a frightened yelp, backing himself further into the corner in the hopes he might trap himself there.

"Don't you touch him!" Zephyr thundered, leaping in front of the huge bull. "Piss off, the lot of you! Leave him alone!"

The men snickered like a pack of hyenas. The leader chuckled as he shook his head.

"Calm down, mate. Don't you worry yerself none. Someone else'll have a little calf in no time for you to spend yer days pampering, and you'll forget all about 'im," he sneered.

"Are you deaf? I told you to leave," Zephyr snarled as intimidatingly as he could. They laughed even more at his sad effort. 

"All this fuss! Why, he's only a _cow._ "

"He's not  _just_  a cow." Zephyr's voice had raised pointedly, and now the men weren't laughing anymore. "He's someone's son. He's the King's pet. And he's  _my_  responsibility. I won't tell you again:  ** _fuck off!_** "

They might have taken his hands from him, but they hadn't taken his legs. The speedy gnome pounced forward and kicked the leader in his knees. The group gasped in anticipation, knowing they would get to see yet another gruesome display of why this man had claimed the top-spot among them.

The grizzled man's legs buckled under the attack but he soon got back up again. The veins on his beefy forearms throbbed with the fury that was rapidly building within.

"It didn't have to be this way, mate," he began, his voice disturbingly soft, "I told you that."

Zephyr swallowed. Gabe shivered, and it wasn't because of the night air.

"So say we break yer legs," the rustler grinned maliciously, taking a hostile step forward into Zephyr's personal space. He cracked each of his gnarled knuckles.   
  
"What else are you goin' to do to me? What then?"

A hand shot out and grabbed Zephyr by his hair.

_"Agh!"_

"Shampoo me to death? Ha! You, my friend, have to learn your place," the man spat and snapped his wrist, making Zephyr's neck twist. "Yer nothin' more than a pathetic little  _hairdresser!_ "

**PRRRRRRRPppppllrrrrrppprt!**

The fight was abruptly stalled by a startling, juicy expulsion. All heads turned toward the corner of the room. Gabriel's dark face was no longer red with panic, but with embarrassment. It was not the most appropriate of times to break wind.

His bent tail lowered again as the foul fumes spread out from behind him, clouding up the shed and making the whole group cough and splutter.

"...sorry," even during a situation like this, the bull felt the need to apologise for his gas.

"Corr, that stuff's absolutely  _rank!_ "

"Is he got the runs or sometin'?"

"He'll mess up our 'ole carriage if 'e does!"

The stench only seemed to get worse the longer it lingered.

"Uh oh..." came the quiet, trembling voice of the taur. Gabriel's tufted tail quivered as he felt his bowels begin to hurriedly loosen. He clutched his big gut and leaned to the side, freeing a muffled ripper. Though low in frequency, it somehow managed to smell even worse than the previous blast. The room continued to complain about how suffocating the atmosphere had become in such a short space of time.

The leader kicked open the shed door and demanded someone stand to made sure it didn't shut again.

"I've 'eard about this big guy," he said between short coughs, "best not to stand behind 'im, boys. Keep to 'is front. He's a real  _gas_ , if you know what I mean!"

The laughter nearly caused a cave-in. Gabriel blushed and huffed, not appreciating that it was the second time he had been mocked that day. It really wasn't fair. What did he do to deserve being landed with this utterly mortifying flatulence problem? That was all it was and all it ever would be: a  _problem._

 _ **Ggggguurrrrggggg!!**_  
  
"Shit," the taur winced. There was no time for moping; his chambers were churning furiously as he tried to bottle up his pernicious winds, but it was proving to be a little problematic. His time had finally come. Everything that was inside wanted to come out.  _Now._  
  
He leaned in toward the gnome as the crowd of men continued to run every possible fart pun into the ground. 

"Z, I got a really bad feelin'," Gabe whimpered, clutching his gassy stomach, "c-can you tell them to wait a little while?"

"Do it."

"...huh?"

Zephyr had sensed—or rather, smelled an opportunity.

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this," he hastily shot a look over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "But fart. Fart as much as you possibly can! You've got to knock them out!"

"Knock them... Z, are you  _serious?_  I can't do th-"

**FFRRRRRRRRRRRRT!**

Gabriel's tail jolted upward as he unexpectedly passed a huge release of gas. The fumes wrapped around one of the men closest to him and sent him collapsing to the ground as he was lost to the onslaught of overpowering stench. The bull blinked.

"...oh. Okay!"

His bowels could wait just that little bit longer. Gabe had to be convincing in his facade. He tried to channel the psyche of the other testosterone-loaded boys his age—they were always arguing while they were out fertilising the fields together, and it usually resulted in a barbaric brawl. He never joined in of course, and firmly remained a spectator... but he had a lot of shadowing knowledge on hand. He had witnessed _many_ fights.  
  
But how did they do it? How did they make themselves scary-looking...?

He inhaled, and from the depths of his chest he brought forth a weighty, threatening growl. He stood up, straightening his back to show his full height. The men looked over, sensing that something was developing.

Gabe reared his head and violently kicked up dust over his shoulder. He looked through the crowd to find the eyes of the leader. When they met, he huffed antagonistically, steam billowing out of his nostrils.

"Fuck, he's goin' to charge us!" The leader yelled. "Quick! Assume yer positions, men! Do  _not_  let him escape!"

The group stood in formation, ropes in each of their hands. They created a circle around the taur. Still Zephyr stood at his side. The bull braced himself, angling his horns toward them, eyes narrowing as he kicked his hoof into the dirt. None aside from the gnome seemed to hear the deep, gurgling rumbles coming from the blonde's bulging gut...

"Here he comes," the grizzled man snarled. "On my mark, we'll take 'im together! 3... 2...  _one!_ "

Gabriel whipped around at the final count. He got down on all fours, tail raised high in the air with his massive dirty backside pointed straight at the crowd. He wiggled it teasingly. Zephyr could hear each and everyone of them collectively gulp.

"Oh, Gods," one whimpered.

"Speaking of him being a gas," Zephyr announced with a smirk.

The bull grunted and released his clenched muscles.

Gallons of bombastic flatulence speedily spilled from the deepest ranges of his disagreeable bowels. The hurricane of rotten mud-coloured clouds swarmed the men and swamped them in a layer of musky gas. Half of the group had been sent hurtling across the floor and into the wall from the strength of Gabe's blast and were now trying to deal with the possibility of several broken backs, the other half were on their knees, gagging and gasping for air that didn't taste so sour and tainted. And Gabriel was nowhere near finished.

"I told you he was sick!" Zephyr cackled manically and scooted closer to the odorous cow. "Go on, Gabe! Show them how much of a gas you  _really_  are!"

The bull shook his great big rump and strained, face darkening intensely in concentration as he passed more foul, explosive gas. It rippled and rumbled and blew out the windows of the shed—and then they heard it! The first thump!

"One down, bud!" Zephyr encouraged, narrating the scene as though it were one of the competitions the bull had participated in that afternoon. "You're right on track!"

The leader's mouth gaped as he watched his men being taken down by the taur's putrid farts... and then he shut it, once he had accidentally breathed in a huge taste of the noxious miasma. He clutched at his throat and desperately tried to haul some of the stunned rustlers onto their feet again.

Gabriel's tummy rumbled and bounced as more lactose cramps flooded his bowels, sending shooting pains all throughout his three chambers. In an instant he was uncontrollably erupting with a stream of fetid, spluttering gas that lasted for nearly half a minute, and had him panting with relief the entire time. Gods, this felt good!

_Thump. Thump._

The bull's relief was cut short as his bowels gurgled in a worryingly warm kind of way. He felt the extreme amounts of pressure escalating within him. He groaned, rivulets of sweat sliding down his forehead and his back, and slanted to the left. He lifted one of his furry legs, and with a forceful grunt, he pushed out another large, brassy burst, that petered out... then came rolling back as a tidal wave of resounding flatulence, heading straight for the group.

_Thump thump thump!_

"Good job, kid!" Zephyr called over the sound. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he felt that it was mostly from relief. His plan was working!

The entire shed was under the control of the taur's sulphuric fog. One could hardly see a few feet in front of them, so most of the men were knocked out because they had accidentally rushed into one another in an attempt to escape the smelly torture chamber. While Gabriel took care of the rustlers, and also alleviated his suffering bowels, Zephyr had managed to free himself. He knew keeping a comb in his back pocket would come in handy one day! It wasn't just for getting out an emergency mat.

"Hhhhhrrrr..!"

He shot a glance toward the strangled noise to see Gabe struggling to force out all the gas he still had left. There was too much in there, and he was becoming plugged up again. The gnome scurried over to him, throwing out as much motivational counselling as he could.

"Push, kid! Push like you mean it!"

"I'm t-trying!"

Zephyr held the bull's tail in the air and stroked his backside encouragingly. He couldn't care less about the smell; the kid's chronic flatulence was actually  _saving the day._  The other bulls wouldn't have much to scoff at once Zephyr told them about this.

Gabe grunted and balled his hands into fists. He closed his eyes tightly and pushed as hard as he could. Ruptures of gas blasted out of him, before they merged into the one reverberating rip. He knocked the last few hustlers down and they didn't come back up again.

"Is that it?" Zephyr coughed on the thick stench. It was near impossible to breath without taking some in.   
  
He looked around the shed. The ground was littered with unconscious cattle rustlers.   
  
"Is anybody left?"

Booming footsteps brought their attention toward the entrance. The grizzled man stood in the doorway, his hulking, blemished body taking up every inch. Despite the impaired visibility, Zephyr had no trouble in apprehending what he was carrying: he knew a butcher's knife when he saw one.

Gabriel had noticed too. 

"Z..." He could barely amplify his terror-stricken voice enough to be heard. "He's g-got a... he h-has a..."  
  
Adrenaline kicked in. The gnome had no time to fret. Zephyr sprang to his feet and ran in front of the bull to look into Gabe's eyes, clicking his fingers in the hopes he could distract him.

"Gabe! Kid! Listen to me, you gotta sit down!  _Sit_ , boy!"

Despite looking like a fawn caught in the headlights, a deeply embedded inclination to obey his caretaker's commands coerced the young taur into auto-pilot, and he started to seat himself down. Zephyr waited until the bull's buttocks were grazing the ground before he demanded him to stop. Gabriel squatted, his eyes still firmly attached to the approaching man—who had tied a rag around his mouth and nose.

"Z, he has a  _knife_ ," Gabriel whispered fearfully.

"Yeah, but we've got something better!"

Zephyr waited until the man got closer. Then, when he was a less than a few feet away, he began to vigorously rub the minotaur's bloated belly.

Something strange happened. All the gas bubbles that had been squashed into his bowels, fighting for space, trying hopelessly to crawl toward his anus and ending up bunched together in the process, suddenly found themselves slipping swiftly downward. The gnome grinned as he heard the gurgles drop to a deeper, more distant note, and he felt the bubbles inside the bull's guts tickle his fingers as they descended.

A nasty combination of relaxation and nerves caused Gabriel to let out a most monumental gas-bomb.

It started off squeaky, like someone holding down the lip of a balloon so that the air pressure was barely slipping past. Then the pitch plunged into a rumbling current of rich, brassy belches as a huge succession of gas bubbles surged out of Gabe's anus, flowing smoothly and coming out of him in one enormous brown torrent. The anxiety tinged the giant fart with a noticeable wetness, that made the bull's buttocks clap as the damp air slapped the inner rim of his furry cheeks.

The grizzled man looked as though he was fighting against an Artic blizzard, although these winds were far from crisp. His rag had flown off as soon as the gaseous deluge began. He was now trying to prevent himself from drinking in the taur's nasty fumes while also remaining upright—each step he took, Gabriel's flatulence sent him sliding backward again.

All the while, Zephyr rubbed and patted and massaged the bull's fat stomach, remembering how he used to do it when he was a calf. Gabriel's ears had lowered and his eyes were sleepy, pacified entirely by the gnome's remedying. Zephyr laughed as the scarred man fell and clambered back up and fell again, and then suddenly the fart sent him hurtling toward the wall.   
  
Zephyr stopped rubbing, so Gabriel stopped farting.   
  
"We did it! We did it, kid!"  
  
Gabriel snorted pleasantly, tail wagging as he passed a little thread of trumpeting rifts, while Zephyr toussled his hair and praised him for his work.  
  
"I can't believe it! You saved us!"  
  
Zephyr, hyped up by their victory, might have been more alert now than he could ever be after twelve cups of morning joe, but it was the taur who noticed the figure rising behind them, face blotched red, charging forward with his knife in the air ready to come down on the unsuspecting gnome—

Gabriel thrust out a leg and kicked the man squarely in the crotch with his hoof. Everything went still as the grizzled man's face scrunched into an expression of true misery, and then he went down like a ton of bricks. The ground shook as his huge body fell unconscious onto the concrete floor.  
  
Zephyr jumped and punched the air triumphantly.

"HAHA! HAHAHAHAH!" 

He had totally lost it, but his unbounded display of joy stemmed from knowing that the kid,  _his_  kid wouldn't be taken from him. That was what he had been trying to ensure. That was all that mattered to Zephyr.   
  
Gabriel stood up and turned in a circle, staring in wide-eyed amazement at the unconscious men. Now he could really see what he and his problem had managed to achieve. He smiled warmly as arms wrapped around his neck and he was pulled down to the gnome's height.

"Aw, that's my boy!" Zephyr cried, scratching the taur behind his fluffy ears. He planted a few gentle kisses on the blonde's forehead. "You did great! Oh, that's gotta feel much better, huh buddy? You feeling good now? You're such a good boy!"

Gabe mooed happily and affectionately licked the gnome's cheek. His tail wagged, and the flies at his rear buzzed in delight.

"Don't mess with the bull... or you get the  _horn!"_

Zephyr grabbed the taur's tail and cocked it as though it was a gun. Gabriel laughed and pushed him playfully.

"It was nothin'," he downplayed coyly. "Could'a done it in my sleep."

"Trust me, we know," the gnome teased.

The two of them celebrated until they could barely breathe, for as victorious as the scene was, it also reeked terribly of lactose-intolerant-minotaur farts. Zephyr panted breathlessly, having used up all his air to laugh.

"I have to... have to— _wow_ ," he shook his head in disbelief. How much time did he have to construct a credible explanation for the royals...? For once, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I have to find the guards. I must see what happened to them. Stay here, okay? I'll be right back."

Gabriel nodded, no longer intimidated by any of these strange men. It was hard to feel scared when they were all deeply unconscious. But...

"Z?" The bull piped up. "What do I do if one of them wakes up?" 

The gnome stepped back into the shed, looked around at the dazed victims, and smirked puckishly at his favourite bull.

"Sit on them."


End file.
